Hello, all! This idea has been rolling around in my brain for quite a while, and since I have some free time I decided to open up a Word doc and see where it takes me! Currently, I have this prologue and two chapters written. I'd like to have a little more written chapter-wise before I begin posting them, but I'm posting this prologue to see if anyone would even be interested in reading this. Please R&R!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or any affiliated characters/terms/etc. I'm just a small town girl, living in a lonely world... Just kidding. But I don't own HP.

Control.

People are screaming, some in pain, some in fear, some in anger. Her breath comes out in short, uneven puffs as she crouches behind a half-crumbled wall, trying to calm her nerves before rejoining the fight.

Control.

She holds her wand between her teeth for a moment to wipe her sweaty palms on the legs of her jeans, shifting to a more comfortable position with a grimace. Her wild, curly hair practically hums with the force of her magic.

Control.

Her wide brown eyes are the only part of her face that is visible when she peeks over the wall, glowing almost eerily in the dark. Ginny is less than a kilometer away, feet planted in the dying grass, fierce determination showing on her features when blocked curses illuminate it. It's hard to tell who she's dueling, but by the stature of the person, Hermione assumes it is one of the older Death Eaters. They are too tall and entirely too broad to be a woman. A gasp rips its way out of her throat as Ginny barely dodges a flash of green.

Control.

Dean and Seamus are not far, either, standing back to back as they duel their own opponents. Lavender lays at their feet, but from this distance, it is hard to tell if she is breathing or not. A flash of blonde out of the corner of her eye distracts Hermione for a moment, and when she focuses again on the battlefield, she sees that Seamus has crumpled to the ground, holding a hand to his stomach. Dean's wand movements become more frantic, and the Death Eater he was dueling flies across the clearing and crashes into one of his comrades and does not get up. Hermione inches toward the edge of her wall, preparing to spring into action, when a bolt of sickly yellow light hits Dean in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground beside Seamus. Hermione's heart seizes in her chest at the sound of maniacal laughter that follows, and she springs from her hiding space, casting a shield around herself as she sprints for Dean.

Control.

Her boots slip and slide on the damp grass, and she falls to her knees beside her friends. Lips and hands trembling, she waves her wand and mutters the spell to detect heartbeats. She lets out a choked sob when she realizes there is only one besides her own. She quickly turns to Seamus, rolling him onto his back and pulling his shirt up to inspect the wound that is still oozing blood. She waves her wand over it to stop the bleeding, trying to ignore his pained chants of Dean, Lav, no, please, and traces her wand from his right hip to his left, sewing the skin back together. It will leave a scar, but he is lucky that the curse didn't succeed in pulling his intestines out as it was intended to. Hermione wipes the back of her hand across her forehead, accidentally zapping herself as her wand bushes her hair.

Control.

This close, she can tell that Dean and Seamus were protecting Lavender's body, probably so that there could be a proper burial for the girl after the battle. Lavender's face is almost unrecognizable and her hair is still sizzling slightly. Dean's light brown skin now has a blue tinge to it, and the veins crawling up his neck and down his left arm are black. His eyes are completely white, and Hermione's tears fall onto his face as she closes them.

"Seamus," She says, placing a hand on his shoulder. His mutters only grow louder, and she knows that if he does not stop, he will draw attention to them. It is hard enough to keep her shield around the four of them. She shakes his shoulder and says again, "Seamus," but he doesn't respond. Hermione takes a quick look around and, seeing that most people around them are occupied, draws her arm back and slaps him across the face. His eyes fly open and his muttering ceases immediately. Hermione closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

Control.

"Seamus, I've healed your wound. There was—I—I couldn't save them," she chokes out, scrubbing a hand across her face angrily. Seamus lets out a whimper and she hears the quiet thud of his head hitting the ground. "Seamus, you need to take them and go," she urges, placing a hand on his wrist and squeezing. "Can you apparate?"

"Yes," he croaks, rolling onto his side and pushing himself onto his knees. He grabs Dean's arm and Lavender's hand, turning to look at Hermione. "Thank you," he whispers, and then is gone. Hermione sits on her knees in the grass for a moment longer, staring at her trembling hands and wondering if she deserves his thanks.

A flash of light narrowly misses her, and her fingertips spark in response to her increased heart rate.

Control.

Hermione jumps to her feet, turning in the direction the curse came from, meeting the eyes of one of her old classmates, Gabriel Tate. The former Hufflepuff's eyes narrow and he lifts his wand. Hermione points her want at him in return, thinking of disarming him and then restraining him. Before the thought is complete, his wand sails into her hand and thick, ropey vines grow from the ground beneath his feet, wrapping first around his ankles and wrists and then around his chest. She stares first in astonishment and then horror as the wizard's wand turns to ash in her hand. She shakes her hand, watching the ashes float to the ground and then checks to see if anyone noticed her strange burst of wandless, wordless magic.

Control.

A scream that sounds suspiciously like Harry's sounds to her right and she takes off at a sprint, dodging beams of light when her shield charm fails to deflect them. When she reaches the scene, Harry is on his knees next to a convulsing Luna, openly sobbing, choking on the words that spill from his lips as flashes fly from the end of his wand toward a cackling Alecto Carrow. Hermione doesn't slow down and instead falls painfully to her knees beside Harry and Luna. Wherever Alecto is, Amycus is never far behind.

"Harry," Hermione pants, crawling forward enough so that her shield encompasses the three of them. A combination of a wheeze and a grunt between hexes is all she gets in response, so she turns her attention to Luna instead. The blonde witch is seizing violently, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles are white. Hermione moves quickly to her other side, taking her head and placing it in her lap to prevent Luna from hurting herself further. She lights the tip of her wand and passes it over the younger witch's face, checking for any signs that she bit her tongue. Satisfied that she hasn't, Hermione casts a diagnostic spell and sucks in a deep breath that gets caught in her throat at the results. Extensive internal damage, most likely caused by extensive bouts of crucio and blunt force trauma. Multiple head contusions, countless bruises, rope burns, and three broken ribs. Hermione's eyes begin to water as she turns her wand on her dotty friend.

"I'm sorry," she whispers as she casts a nonverbal Petrificus Totalus to still her movements. With that done, she pulls her beaded bag from a pocket in her robes and summons a healing potion, which she forces into Luna's mouth, massaging her throat to get her to swallow. Surprisingly, her hand is steady when she passes it over Luna's ribs to heal the broken bones there. She becomes dimly aware that there are two new, male voices shouting words that she refuses to focus on. So long as she can heal Luna, it will be okay. Dean and Lavender's faces flash across her mind, reminders of her failures already that night, and her hairband snaps with a loud crack, sending her hair tumbling over her shoulders and into her face where it shocks her cheeks painfully. She yelps and focuses back on Luna, furiously pushing her hair out of her face.

Control.

Once she is sure she has done all she can, Hermione murmurs a finite and breathes out a sigh of relief to see Luna laying still and breathing easier. So focused is she that she does not hear him scream her name, does not see the flash of green, until his body collides with hers, knocking her off balance. Her head cracks painfully on a sharp rock and she groans. When she opens her eyes, her vision is blurry but she can still make out the shock of red hair, signature of the Weasley family.

"Ron," she wheezes, shaking her head in hopes of clearing her vision. "Ron, you're crushing me," This time when she opens her eyes, Hermione sees everything in startling clarity: the faint stubble on his cheeks and above his lip, the freckles that she had tried and failed to count, and his open, empty blue eyes. For a moment she forgets to breathe, cannot hear anything besides the pounding of her own heart, loud and overwhelming.

"Hermione," Ron whispered, cupping her face in his hands. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I love you so, so much." He leaned down to kiss her forehead, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her tight against him. "I would die for you," he told her, "I would die for you a million times over,"

"You won't have to," she responded, snaking her arms around his waist and squeezing him tightly, as though they could get closer than they already were.

She had told him he wouldn't have to die for her. She thought it was true, thought she could handle herself, thought they would make it through the war and live happily ever after. She had been wrong. Her world explodes with sound as she takes her next breath. Her exhale comes out in a low whine, clearly not heard by the two pathetic, disgusting wastes of flesh and oxygen and magic that had taken her love and her future away from her. Harry barely spares her a glance, focusing instead on throwing everything he has at the ones who had killed his first and best friend. With another whine, Hermione pushes Ron's body off herself and rolls to her knees. Her chest aches and it feels as though her very soul is quivering with pain and rage. Dirt and rocks swirl around her as she climbs to her feet. Her breath leaves her faster now, louder and more desperate. She staggers forward, eyes focused on Amycus and Alecto, both of whom have yet to notice her. When she is within hearing distance, she stops.

"Who?" she demands in a whisper. Three heads snap in her direction. Harry stares, heartbroken, and opens his mouth to speak. When only a whimper comes out, he hangs his head in shame. Hermione focuses her attention on the twins instead.

"Who killed him?" she shrieks, the air around her crackling dangerously. Alecto, not noticing or caring the danger she is in, cackles madly and claps her hands together in glee.

"I did it!" she proclaims proudly, "I killed the filthy blood traitor! And what a pleasant kill it was, eh Amycus? Right in front of his best friend and his little Mudblood," Amycus looks nervously between his sister and the distraught witch in front of them. Alecto turns to Hermione with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Don't worry, filthy girl, you're next." Before the Death Eater can raise her wand, Hermione lets out a feral scream and holds her hand out. Alecto's wand flies out of her hand and into Hermione's, incinerating the moment it touched her palm.

"You bitch!" Alecto screeches, stomping forward. Harry wipes his nose on his sleeve and raises his wand, but Hermione shakes her head in warning. Alecto does not halt in her steps until she is standing directly in front of Hermione. She raises her hand and slaps her hard across the face. Hermione feels something snap deep within her and her hand shoots out to close around Alecto's neck. Raw magic pulses around them, distorting the sounds of the battle still raging and Harry's broken sobs.

"Don't you ever," Hermione hisses, "ever, speak of him again." Alecto's eyes bulge and she tries to speak, but Hermione's grip is too strong. A feral glint appears in Hermione's eyes as she leans forward to whisper directly into Alecto's ear. "Better yet, why don't I make it so that you can never speak of anyone again?" She removes her hand from Alecto's neck to grasp the hairs at the base of her skull instead, pulling hard on them so that the witch's neck is exposed. Using her magic to feel around, Hermione grasps Alecto's vocal chords and tugs, severing them and pulling them out through the older woman's throat. She allows them to float above her palm for a moment or two so that Alecto gets a clear view when she sets them ablaze.

Hermione drops the Death Eater and turns to Harry, who is staring at her with a mix of fear and awe. Amycus has conveniently disappeared, and there is no one to help up the gasping and gurgling Alecto, who is crawling away as fast as she can. Fucking coward, Hermione thinks.

"Let's go, Harry," she says, holding her hand out to him. He hesitates, his eyes sliding first over Luna, and then to Ron. Hermione huffs out a breath and summons her beaded bag to her side, then Luna, then Ron, and turns to Harry once more. "I said let's go, Harry." Her raven-haired friend nods mutely and hurries over to her.

"Here's your wand, Hermione," He says, avoiding her eyes. She stares at the vinewood for a moment before shaking her head.

"I don't think I'll be needing that anymore," Hermione places her hand on Harry's shoulder and they disappear without a sound.